• The dying embers of the sun gradually descended into the tranquil sea, the fiery sphere's rays hitting the waters and bouncing off the serene, waves, making the sea spray glimmer. Warm sand lay beneath my toes and a glass of Bloody Mary rested on the driftwood table, fireflies darted in the tidy bushes kept by the edge of the perfect beach. I fell back on the deckchair, mentally discarding all worries as I closed my eyes and my phone quietly pumped music into my earphones.

    I felt something land on my hand, and opening my eyes saw a blue butterfly resting on my little finger, I watched it gracefully fly off into the sky, where the sun had disappeared and the darkness was slowly pushing in.

    Finishing my drink, I packed up my deckchair and headed towards the small village under the glimmering stars that watched over the world.

    I was staying in a little stone cottage near the center of the village, with large roses that crept up the walls. I let myself in, wiping my shoes on the mat and walked up the steep oak stairs, the smell of fresh red roses wafted up my nose as a faint feeling overtook my head.

    Kicking off my black boots and went to the window where I gazed outside, where young children still ran around in the park and opened them, a warm breeze entering the room.

    Down in the kitchen I made myself a quick pasta carbanara with plenty of parmesan, bacon and white wine. I washed up everything before laughing at myself, 'on holiday and still doing the washing up', and going into the guest room, where I checked my phone, 7 missed calls, 22 text messages.

    I took out my laptop and started to write, it was an escape, to write, a way of leaving life's issues behind. Half an hour later there was a knock at the door, it echoed menacingly around the room, like a warning. I jumped and ran to the window, turning briefly at the there to look behind me. No-one was there. I went back and wrenched open the door to find the landlord standing there. I felt embarrassment seeping into my expression.

    'Hi.' I greeted.

    'I just wanted to make sure everything was okay…are you alright?' He asked.

    'Yeah, fine.' I lied.

    'Good. I'll leave you alone now; tell me if there's anything I can do.' He replied.

    'Thanks, will do.' I said, and he left, closing the door behind him.

    I went back to my laptop, shutting it down and falling down onto the bed. I fell asleep, a nightmarish sleep, plagued with dreams from my memories.

    * * * *

    4:30am, I made a hot chocolate and cried into the soft tissue paper from my bag. There was a knock at the door and I absent mindedly opened it.

    'May I come in?' the figure asked, looming above me. I blinked and took a step backwards.

    'Why?' I replied slowly and quietly, but nodded before glancing at his face. I had seen him before.

    I tried to slam the door and run, he entered, pushing me backwards gently, smiling his melancholy and apologetic but malicious grin.

    'Niall, leave me alone.' I told him weakly, backing away.

    'Why are you so unhappy, Tarin?' Niall asked, sounding almost offended.

    'What are you? I saw what you did to her; I don't want the same thing to happen to me.' I screamed.

    'I wouldn't Tarin, I know about the dreams, I can help.' He calmly denied.

    'Like you helped her? By killing her?' I yelled, striking out.

    'She's not dead, she's alive, Tarin, depending on how you define alive.' He contradicted, with a small laugh.

    'You drank her blood, she died, and I define alive as still breathing, she definitely wasn't. I checked.' I stated, fearfully.

    'She wasn't breathing, that's true, she didn't need to and she doesn't need to. She's here if you want to talk to her.' He told her, and I paused, a million thoughts running through my head. A girl walked in, maybe 19 years old, she hadn't aged, still looked the same as she had two years ago, with long, curled blonde hair and bright blue eyes, tall and lithe, Alex. 'You don't need to breathe either; you drank the wine I gave you that year. That started the process; I'm here to end it.'

    'No, I don't want to…I don't believe…' I fell silent, suddenly some things made sense, he didn't bleed, never saw me in the day, never ate, never touched metal, and ran faster than anyone I knew…

    'It's not so bad, Tarin.' Alex told me, her voice a high and melodic sound. 'It doesn't even hurt. You won't notice it either, he'll incapacitate you first.' The warning came five seconds before a gas entered my nose and mouth, choking me. I fell, as the world darkened.

    ****

    I coughed, my head felt like a weight was pressing down on it and my nose was blocked. I slowly opened my eyes, my senses were imediately flooded and my head began to ache more. I closed my eyes, and waited for the pain to stop.

    The next time I opened my eyes it was clearer, colours that didn't have names were spread out everywhere in front of me. It was too much. I shut my eyes again.

    'Are you okay?' a male voice asked. Not Niall. Not my landlord. I opened my eyes to look up at the figures standing around me. Alex, Niall, another girl and two other boys stared back at me?

    'Who are you?' Another voice asked. It took me a while to recognise it as my own, it was higher than it used to be.

    'Marcel,' a boy with black hair answered. '…and this is Priya and Warren,' he continued, pointing to the girl with the same chocolate brown hair and icy blue eyes as Niall, and the other boy with blonde hair and green eyes. Warren moved towards Alex and I saw the feathered forms on his back.

    'What are you?' I asked, not expecting an answer. Alex smiled, before glancing at Niall, who smirked at her before answering.